


The Patient & The Nurse

by Skullszeyes



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Fear, Flash Fic, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hospitalization, POV Second Person, Random & Short, Reader-Insert, forced hospitalization, hints to auditory hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: You woke up in a strange environment, and you met a nurse.





	The Patient & The Nurse

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to some asmr ambiance, then I was on The Evil Within, and I really like Tatiana and her voice in the first game. So, I decided to rewrite Sebastian's scene with a patient who isn't gendered nor do they talk. The nurse isn't named but we all know who she is. :) I was thinking of adding more, but I'm currently unsure. I don't usually write in reader-inserts. I like to practice though. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Your fingers were numb when you opened your eyes, placing a hand on the side of your head as your headache throbbed. Your breath was shaking at the sound of the creak beneath you and you realized the bed you were on was not your own. The clothes were white with the insignia of Beacon Mental Hospital. You wore no other clothes and had no socks as you pulled your legs off the bed, and a shiver crawled along your back at the touch of the cold ground.

The walls around you were decrepit and grey. Your own breath plumed before you. Getting up from the bed, you looked to a small white table with markings dug into it. Looking closely, you recognized the words you had written back in the hospital. The plastic fork broke many times, and a nurse had to sit with you, but you managed to write each word the way you wanted it written.

_No help in Beacon_

_Scream Scream Scream_

You placed a finger over the indents before looking toward the door when you heard the slightest noise. A humming. Fear made you breathe heavily, and you walked past a toilet and sink with roaches crawling within both. Disgusted, you placed your hands against the metal door, your fingers gripping the bars until a woman appeared right before you.

You gasped, stepping back.

“You’re awake,” she said in a soft indifferent voice. She unlocked the door and opened it. She wore a red blazer, and a white dress, with a white nurse cap on top of her brown hair that was pulled away from her face besides her bangs, and her black framed glasses that were tucked on her nose.

She looked familiar, but there were so many nurses, all of them with faces blending together. All of them hateful and rude with their cold baths and early voices ringing against the halls. Your white thin pillow could never shut it out, their voices, their wrongness.

This woman...she was no different from them, but you felt like there was.

“Are you alright?” she asked, giving you a flat smile.

Your hands were shaking, terrified. She walked in with no sign of irritation and reached for your hand.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tentative, you placed your hand into her own and she was warm. Warmer than the walls, the springy bed, and the roaches within the toilet and the sink. There was a sense of safety with this woman and you allowed her to lead you out of the room.

The hallway was different, strangely familiar, but different. It was dim thanks to the lighting above, but there were other doors with people inside. A woman screaming, a boy mumbling, a man laughing, while another is hitting the walls.

What is going on?

She brought you into the office area and she let go of your hand. “Come along,” she said, walking around the desk and placing a hand on a clipboard. “You must sign in.”

You stepped toward it and looked at the piece of paper and started to shake your head, stepping away from it.

“Please,” she said, her voice not losing its monotony, “sign in here. It’s to preserve any future memories.”

It’s the same one that you had signed when your mother had brought you to Beacon. The same one she had forced your hand and wrote your name. She told you that it was good to stay in a mental hospital until you are better. She’ll visit. She did not visit. She did not reply to any of your letters or even the phone when you called. She forgot you, and you were left forgotten along with every other patient within the white building.

The nurse waited patiently, then she turned toward the door and pressed a button. “This way please.”

The sound of metal grating together left your teeth chattering and your heart racing. Down the hall was a chair. One that also looked familiar. Too familiar that it left imprints upon the sides of your head, and made you dazed for hours on end.

You stepped toward it, afraid of it. The clock ticked constant in the silence as you walked toward the chair. The smell of antiseptic and medicine wafted around you, the tang left on your tongue was prominent.

“You are alright,” the nurse said, entering the room, “please, relax.” She walked to the side of the chair where the IV pole stood with the bag hanging from the hook.

Hesitant, you sat down on the chair. It was the same metal device in the hospital, the same you had experienced when they said the voices will eventually go away with a few sessions. When the medicine drained you and they had to carry you either on a gurney or in a wheelchair. It happened countless of times and you thought the voices only gotten louder.

Except, you heard no voices in this hospital. There was only you, the nurse, and the silence.

She placed the device on your head and secured it, and it tightened, and you gasped when something prodded the sides of your head. You didn’t remember this part, and you were sure it wasn’t actually a part of the chair you recalled. This was something else, and you almost began to panic and run. Except your wrists were strapped down and your legs were secured. Syringes were pointed downwards to your arms.

You struggled, yelling for help.

“You mustn't fight it,” she said, “this is for your own good.”

Stop. You wanted it to stop. Please stop.

And then your entire body jerked, head almost snapping backwards if it wasn’t for the strange metal helmet keeping you in place. The syringes had injected it your skin. The pain sent waves through you, and you were drowsy, mouth parched, just like the hospital. A resemblance fading in and out of white walls and decrepit ones.

Before you passed out, you noticed one thing that was stranger than what began.

A man, blurry, but he stood down the hall, standing infront of the desk, his fingers on the paper you didn’t sign before he turned his attention to you. He wore a terrible burned coat, blood stains on the ends, and his chest was bare with thick scars, while the rest of him didn’t look any better.

Was he like you?

Was he signing in?

Was this all a dream?

The false sense of security with the nurse was close to the nurses in Beacon. Except you couldn't will yourself to hate her. And sleep seemed like the most plausible answer. You closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I was actually hearing voices of my own while writing this. (tmi, yes I hear voices, auditory ones, I do have a mental illness, but I've had it for a long time so I learned to ignore them cause they're assholes!) So the idea of voices also gave me a bit of inspiration to the Reader character. :)
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


End file.
